


Lost Names.

by MuseMusing



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi | Spirited Away
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 11:38:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9179923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuseMusing/pseuds/MuseMusing
Summary: Annabeth and her family are moving, which sucks anyway. But what does she do when her family turns to pigs and she finds a friend in a boy she swears she's seen before, but can't place?(Characters are not mine, nor is the plot, and all rights go to the people who created them. I'm just using them for a bit of creative fun. More or less follows the plot of Spirited Away.)





	

If there was anything that Annabeth hated more than spiders, it was change. Why would she bring up spiders, you may wonder? Because they were death sentences packed into creepy, hairy, eight-legged bodies that scuttled out from nowhere and everywhere. It wasn't such a big issue when she caught sight of them. Oh, no, it became a series of panic attacks when she lost it. Before she threw herself into panic mode, back to the change part; Annabeth had lived in the same neighborhood since she was an infant, had the same friends since preschool, even her parents hadn't changed much.

    Frederick and May Chase (yes, _May Chase_ was really her mother’s name, and she tried not to snort each time she remembered that) were both a little energetic when it came to the things they were passionate for. Even as something as smoothies because, like her mother said, who couldn't love a smoothie? Her father had brown hair and her mother had blonde hair. Both had that same crazed scientist look in their eyes if you could hold a conversation with them. They both hated to stay still, always working, always having side projects. Even with two children it still hadn’t been time-consuming enough.

    Annabeth’s gaze slid to her left, towards her brother, Luke. He looked like a mixture of both of their parents with icy, but expressive blue eyes and hair that was somewhere between brown and blonde, but not exactly sandy hued. Almost like the two colors were warring for dominance in his close cut. Her brother was sixteen.

    Annabeth was the odd one out, considering she looked like an adopted child what with her tanned skin - hello, she liked to play outside, even if her friends often quit because she was competitive - and blonde hair that was golden. She wasn't talking about the washed-out yellow that was too boring to be described as anything else but _yellow_. The other thing that set her apart was her eyes: they were grey. She wasn't talking about the grey that changed from blue depending on the lighting. They were a deep, startling, storm-cloud grey that was ready to release tons of rain and told people they should stay in doors if they couldn't brave an upcoming storm.

    Her father had told her that she took after her grandmother on her mother’s side and he had only seen her in pictures because she died in a car accident before her parents met.

    “Do we really have to move?” Annabeth almost whined from the backseat.

    “How many times do you want that explained to you? Dad would have to drive eight hours in total - four one way and four back - so he might as well just stay there. Easier to move us all up there. Be quiet and go back to staring at your flowers.” Luke said irritably. He had a right to be irritable since she had asked the same question about six times in the past three hours.

    “Luke, be nice to your sister,” Mom rebuked him, giving him a _look_ over the corner of her seat. She was knitting something that vaguely resembled a sweater. You know how people say that with practice makes perfect? Or even almost perfect? That wasn't the case here; her mother had been knitting for years and still sucked at it, but she loved to do it. She even knitted things for Annabeth’s friends and they all wore it. Thalia and Jason had gotten sweaters, Leo had a tiny tool belt he wore with everything, and Nico had a beanie and these are just to name a few.

    “She started it.” Luke grumbled, going back to his game on his DS.

    Dad only sighed from behind the wheel and kept his attention ahead of them and on the road.

   Annabeth held the bouquet of roses - red, pink, white, and ones that were white dipped in pink - close to her chest as she stared at Thalia’s note:

 

Don't worry, Annabeth! We’ll come see you in the summer, our mom already promised we could.

 

A couple of lines down was Jason’s handwriting:

 

Correction, she wailed until Mom promised. It was an epic hissy fit. See you soon!

 

Jason had some of the prettiest handwriting Annabeth had ever seen: bold and a cross between print and cursive. Thalia’s was more messy because she didn’t really care what it looked like so long as it was readable. Jason liked to have a neater print. Annabeth always thought they’re handwriting didn't feel like either of them and should probably be switched. Then again, Thalia would never write the way Jason did and would sooner run in the other direction. Their mom had given Annabeth the bouquet and they'd written in the card that came with it. Nico had given her a ring with a skeletal owl on it, her favorite animal (more so when it _wasn't_ a skeleton, but she wasn't complaining). Leo had given her one of his favorites wrenches and tried (unsuccessfully) not to cry as she left.

    Annabeth had tried not to cry as she left.

    Roses and gifts littered the back seat of the car from friends. Luke had been given a few games from his guy friends and one rose from a girl who used to pine away after her brother, but gave up when she found her current boyfriend. Then again, this was all her brother had told her. Didn't know the girl’s name, and Luke wasn’t giving it up. Their parents weren't aware of it.

    Annabeth frowned at the neighborhood they could see in the distance. It looked nice, from the distance, but she still wasn't too thrilled to be so away from her friends.

    “Look! There it is!” Mom said, pointing with one needle to the right. Annabeth had already noticed it, naturally.

    Luke lifted his head from his game. “The place isn't a dump, is it?” Then he went back to his game, a bored expression taking over his features.

    “You saw pictures, Luke. You know it isn't.” Annabeth muttered, swiveling in her seat as they passed an exit. “Dad, what exit did you need again?”

    “Orange Camp Road.” Her dad was leaning forward, eyeing the exits.

    “You passed it.” Annabeth said flatly.

    “I did not!”

    Annabeth pointed behind them. “That was the one you needed. You passed it.” Dad grumbled and took the next exit that Annabeth thought was seriously questionable.

    “You’re heading towards a bunch of forest. Is that really safe?” Luke glanced up, nerves causing his voice to be a little higher than it should be.

    “Afraid, Lukey?” Annabeth whispered to her brother. She got an annoyed, exasperated look in return, lip curling up.

    Before he could speak up, Dad did. “I’ll just circle around. Not a big deal! We can do this!”

    It proved to be a mistake that could've gotten them killed if the car swerved the wrong way. Annabeth refused to acknowledge the squeal that escaped her as they rocked precariously from side to side driving down a stretch of road canopied by leaves and rocks that peppered the ground dangerously. Her squeal was outmatched by her swearing brother as he bounced up and down in his seat, smacking his head on the roof of the car four times in the span of two minutes. Annabeth smiled to him smugly since she had the foresight to be wearing her seat belt. Luke’s voice pitched higher and lower depending on the bumps that were or were not there in the road.

    He fell down in the space of the front and back seats, the ridge in the middle pressing against his ribcage. Annabeth set her feet against his back as a rest.

    “Get. Off.” He muttered as he wiggled around in a futile attempt to regain his balance as they were throttled around like dolls - or at least Luke was. Mom was exclaiming each time she stabbed herself with a needle on accident. Dad had leaned forward, grasped the steering wheel and was grinning maniacally; reminding her of an overly serious driver with a bad case of road rage. Except without all the yelling.

    “You’ll just fall over again. Best if you stay down there.” Annabeth smirked and pressed her heels against his back.

    “Mo-om!” Luke whined. As if he couldn't overpower his younger sibling.

    “Annabeth, feet off your brother. Luke, park it back in your seat.” Mom waved a needle at the both of them, giving them a look from over her seat. Both children did as they were told.

    Through the surrounding foliage that sped by there would, occasionally, be a statue of some sort that stuck out like a sore thumb. Faces that were unable to be seen etched into them, but they were there all the same. Annabeth jerked forward, seat belt locking as her father slammed on the brakes. Luke grunted and Mom grumbled something neither of the other three could catch.

    Looming in front of the car was a ramshackle building, what looked like years of neglect taking its toll: shingles that had come off in large clumps, windows that looked broken or had cracks spider-webbed into them, flowers and vines that grew up the side of the building. It was hard to tell if or where the building ended - logically there was an end to it, but no one could see it due to the dense forest that had caught up this deep in. There was a statue that Dad had slammed on the brakes to avoid ramming into. A tunnel, roughly fifty feet ahead of the statue, was darkened and deserted.

    Cramming the card into her pocket and leaving the bouquet of roses on the seat Annabeth got out of the car with her parents and brother, whom was nervously looking from the car to the tunnel.

    “Uh, what are you guys doing?” Luke swallowed nervously as three of them moved closer to the tunnel. Annabeth noted the faces carved on the front and back of the near-oval statue.

    Annabeth’s grey eyes slid to her brother from the corner of her eye. “Exploring. What else?”

    Luke took a few steps forward, now halfway between the car and tunnel. “Shouldn’t we get back in the car and go back? We really shouldn't be out this way; this place feels weird.”

    “Where’s your sense of adventure, Luke? We'll only look around for a few minutes.” Dad said, getting closer and closer to the mouth of the tunnel. Annabeth followed, her curiosity piqued.

    “You can wait for us in the car if it unnerves you so, dear.” Mom smiled at Luke warmly.

    A small gust of wind had Annabeth frowning momentarily, peeking behind her a second. It was odd that there was no wind coming from the tunnel, but rather wind was rushing into it. Annabeth had no idea what Luke had been talking about when he said the place felt weird; to her there was something about it that called to her. As her mother and Luke talked, Annabeth was the first to walk into the wide mouth with her father close behind.

    “Wait for me!” Luke shouted behind them, jogging to catch up. They'd made it halfway through the tunnel by now when Luke decided he didn't want to be the only one left behind.

    “I thought you were too scared,” Annabeth told him mockingly. Luke gave her a half-hearted attempt at a glare.

    “I am not scared!” He said indignantly.

    “Yes, because that's not why you didn't want to come.” Annabeth rolled her eyes.

    “I just don't think it’s okay to go around trampling on someone else’s property.”

    “I didn't see a sign, Luke. Stop making stupid excuses. It’s not like we’re camping here for the night.”

    “It’s not a stupid excuse!”

    “And what would your friends say if they knew you were being a giant chicken about checking out a tunnel?”

    Luke opened his mouth, ready to argue, while he puffed up. He puffed up at the mention of his friends, just like she knew he would. If there was one thing Luke cared a ridiculous amount about, it was what his friends thought of him. If they were your friends, they shouldn't care about the way you are and should instead accept it. Annabeth told him maybe he needed new friends. He scoffed each time the topic came.

    “Can’t you two get along for an hour or so?” Mom broke in with a sigh. Luke grumbled something she didn't catch, but she shrugged and went ahead.

    The room the tunnel spilled into was spacious, little windows spotting the areas high in the walls, bathing certain areas in wheels of blue, red, yellow, and green. Turning back, there were other tunnels to go down, though Annabeth didn't recall seeing any others from the front. Maybe they forked off in some other area? Or were they dead-ends? The next corridor was narrower than the one they'd come through and significantly shorter, blinding light glittering at the end of it.

    Just a few more feet . . .

    “Whoa,” Luke said behind her as they all emerged, blinking to adjust to the sudden brightness. Annabeth had to agree with the one syllable.

    The building behind them, from where they'd come, was crumbling in some areas, a clock mounted to the top of it as it chimed silently with each passing second. What was unnerving was it seemed smaller on this side and there was no forest-type area around it. Nothing in sight. But that wasn't what had captured everyone’s attention. In front of them were rolling hills, lush greens of the grass glinting in the light. Dilapidated houses dotted the hills, even more crumpled looking than the front of the building. Statues stood out more like lone teeth in the grassy plains, looking somehow joyous, horrified, and amused all at the same time. The set of the mouth said joyous, eyebrows set for amusement, and stone eyes carved wide and expressive with fear.

    “It’s looking at me.” Luke whimpered as they passed one.

    “It’s _facing_ you. Of course it looks like it’s looking at you.” Annabeth gave him a glance that said he had quite possibly lost some, or the rest of, his mind by this point.

    “Their eyes are following me.” He adamantly continued.

    “I’m the youngest and somehow you wind up being more imaginative than me.” Annabeth grumbled.

    “Oh, shut up.” Luke hissed.

    Annabeth only lifted a shoulder in response. Wind billowed against the grass, making it sway lightly and clothes to give subtle ripples. The farther they went the worse the houses looked, abandoned and neglected while the grass gradually became a few feet higher. With banter and small talk the two hours or so they traveled over the land seemed to speed on by. There was a deep ditch filled with rocks and a trickle of some of the clearest water Annabeth had ever seen, no matter how much of a small amount was there. The steps beyond it were wide-set.

    Alternating between hopping and carefully scaling the rocks vertically, Annabeth made it the steps, pushing her curly hair away from her face and tucking some of it behind her ears; she hoped it would stay. A tall structure was set mere feet from the would-be river and Annabeth checked it out: solid wood, craftsmanship, nails placed well so the structure stayed sound for the years to come. A clock rested on top of it, triangular on the top like someone had just placed it there on a whim. It would probably look better without it due to the way the rest of the tower appeared in fading reds and hints of green. Vines, they looked like.

    There was a winding street, forking off in different directions here and there, the little sectional house-like areas just as worn down as had the front of the building. Only the ones on the streets looked well-cared for.

    Something tickled at her nose, Annabeth pausing to take a few short sniffs. Just as she opened her mouth, Luke spoke, “Is that food I smell? It smells delicious.”

    “It is.” Annabeth confirmed after another sniff.

    Luke made an appreciative groan as he went off in search of the source. Their parents followed eagerly, obviously just as hungry. “Are you guys really going to go in search of food that isn't yours?”

    “We’ll pay them, Annabeth. No big deal.” Her father assured her. Annabeth wasn't quite so convinced they should even go in search of the food, no matter how delicious it may smell.

    Rather than arguing with her father she simply tagged along. Luke, like the bloodhound he was when it came to food, led the way. He even paused every so often to sniff at the air some more to determine the way. They'd come to an area more filled with restaurants, deserted, except one smack in the middle where smoke was drifting from. Some sort of food that wasn't quite identifiable to her. Her mother, father, and brother all sat along the line of stools on one side, each taking a plate of their own as they began to load them up. Annabeth hung back.

    “Hello!” Annabeth tried calling through the smoke, standing on tiptoes and peering around, brows pinched together in worry.

    No answer in reply. She tried again and still got no answer.

    “I really don't think you should be eating someone else’s food. Especially when they aren't around,” Annabeth tugged at her father’s arm.

    “Now who's scared?” Luke said around a bite of some type of food Annabeth couldn't even begin to describe now that it was mashed to mush by teeth.

    “There was no sign and this place looked abandoned from the outside and further in. That's different now that it’s certain there’s obviously someone around. It’s disrespectful,” Annabeth scorned her brother with a scowl in place.

    “Relax, they'll get paid.” Luke shovelled more food into his mouth after swallowing.

    “Don’t worry about it, dear. We'll make sure the food is paid for.” Her mother smiled before returning to her own food. Dad hummed in acknowledgement. Watching all three shovel food into their mouths and chew almost noisily was enough to damage whatever appetite Annabeth had worked up.

    “I’ll be back.” She muttered to the three of them. Not one noise to show that she had been heard by any of them. Shrugging, Annabeth exited the narrow street and turned the only direction she hasn't explored yet - right. More closed restaurants and nothing else in sight until the street she’d been on enlarged to either side of her to give way for more space. Ahead of her was yet another clock, eerily mirroring the one by the river, only this one had a clock on all four sides, ticking away silently. In front of that, a bridge, and beyond that, a palace type building. Floors that were too many for her to count.

     _Ch-hiss-chu! Ch-hiss-chu!_

    “What in the -” Annabeth scrambled across the bridge and peered off the left side, to a corridor in the stone down below. A train sputtered along a railing Annabeth hadn't seen throughout the field they had traveled over into the maze or restaurants. Running from one side of the bridge to the other to watch it, steam billowed from a pipe in the top. Intermittently making those same noises.

    Only when the train was well in the distance did Annabeth move away, this time to face the building still out of her reach. Startled, she took half a step backward when her eyes focused on what was in front of her.

    A boy. No older than she dressed in jeans, boots, and a shirt that folded over in the middle of his chest, leaving a few inches of it bare. Dark, unruly hair was swept to one side; Annabeth didn’t know if it was styled that way or if he’d been hit with a gust of wind from wherever he had come. She only knew it was a good look. A complexion almost as tanned as hers, if not even a shade to differentiate. His eyes, though. His eyes were what rooted her to the ground most of all. A deep green, moss it looked like, warred with cerulean blue to create a colour Annabeth had never seen before.

    Heart stuttering in her chest, Annabeth thought his eyes looked familiar, but that couldn't be. Annabeth would remember eyes that looked so familiar with the depth his were. By the gods, they were as familiar as her own.

    Those eyes widened a fraction, darting from her face to the clock. Was that panic? “You must leave. Now. Get back to the river before everything turns on,” his voice was an urgent whisper, a little deeper than Annabeth assumed it might be. He was reaching towards her, turning her shoulders, and shoving her back in the direction she’d come from. “Go! Before it’s too late, Annabeth!”

    Something in her stirred, a sense of foreboding, perhaps. She didn’t question him and instead ran back to where her family was. She had expected him to follow, but he stayed on that bridge, back to her now and facing the palace.

    Now, Annabeth should've assumed something had gone very wrong, a trick or something, as when she reached her family something else was in their place, wearing their clothes that bulged too much for comfort. Annabeth reached her father first, grabbing at his shirt and tugging. Hard.

    What turned to greet her wasn't her father, but an enormous pig that snorted in disdain at her and went back to consuming and unholy amount of food. Trembling, Annabeth glanced to the other two pigs, that also snorted.

     _Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap!_

    A ghostly, mysterious apparition swatted at her pig-father with what looked like a flyswatter. It made her jump, feet carrying her back so fast Annabeth almost tripped over her own feet. Lights were steadily buzzing to life, whispers floating through the air. Unable to help her family, Annabeth steered herself back in the direction of the empty river. More ghostly apparitions were forming, blob-like at first before milling around. Annabeth shrieked softly and shuddered as she almost ran head-on into one on the way down the steps at the end of the road. Dozens of them reached forward to one another or they bobbed about in place, eyes unseeing.

    Suddenly, Annabeth felt like she didn’t belong as the sun began to dip below the horizon slower than was remembered. But all that flew out of her head as she eventually reached the full river.

     _Full?!_ her mind shrieked, skidding to a stop just before plunging herself into its dark, unseeable depths. Her breath started to come in short gasps before she clenched her jaw and forced down the skitters of panic. Annabeth Chase _did not_ panic. She was many things, but a panicker she was not.

     _Chug-chug. Chug-chug_. A boat puttered to a dock not terribly far from her. Doors opened. Shadows moved along the doors, pieces of masks held at various heights. But no solid person was seen moving. Not one. Each had no body, masks where they stood, and silhouettes on the walls of the boat. Well, it looked more like a cruise ship with three floors. As each shade approached the dock, crossing over, bodies wavered and formed there now.

     _Am I losing parts of my mind?_ Annabeth wondered when they first looked human and then took on the shapes on different animals and some were barely even shapes. Others were something from nightmares long forgotten with twisted limbs and grotesque faces.

    Annabeth brought her hands to her face to swipe at her eyes and stopped in her tracks, eyes widening. Her arms and parts of her legs were disappearing! Panic really surged through her then as she rubbed at her arms as if she could rub them back existence,and then patted at her thighs, stomping her feet rhythmically.

    Turning around, Annabeth fled to the side of a building up a hill before anything saw her or paid much attention to her. It wasn't what she needed right this minute. A clear head is what she did need and if she was spotted and tracked, well, Annabeth didn't want to know what was going to happen. Falling to her knees Annabeth breathed heavily. What could she do? There was a chance she may be able to slip onto the cruise ship and hitch a ride back to wherever they came from. Unfortunately, she didn't know where it came from. It wouldn't be wise to try to approach someone and ask. What if they didn't speak English? Worse, what if they wanted her dead?

    The train! Annabeth straightened and peered around, gnawing at her lower lip. If she could find the tracks and follow them to a station, or just the tracks themselves, would she find her way out? Too much Annabeth didn't know and she hated it.

     _I'll try the train first,_ Annabeth nodded to herself and continued to think to herself. _If that doesn’t work, I'll talk to someone. Maybe I should try to find the boy again and lay low. Maybe he would help._

    Resolutely Annabeth leaned forward and tried to get up, only to find out she couldn't. Staring down at her legs in shock, disbelieving her own body was betraying her when she felt fine just moments ago.

    Soft footfalls sounded from behind her and she pretended not to notice. Her legs may be useless, but her arms weren't. So, she waited, tensed and ready. The air behind her stirred as someone crouched down beside/behind her and Annabeth whirled as best as she could, bringing around her left fist. Not as good as her right hook. Decent enough, though.

    “Uhn!” came the grunt. “Ow! Seriously? Is that how you thank someone coming to help you?”

    Annabeth couldn't stop her second assault, right fist moving towards the boy’s stomach when it registered who he was. Fortunately, he didn't need to worry about that. Unfortunately, it was because Annabeth’s fist passed harmlessly through him.”Wh -”

    He held up a berry. Or, that's what it looked like. It was bright red. “You must eat this. It'll help you get better.” He lightly pressed the berry against Annabeth’s lips as she shook her head. His left hand was rubbing the side of his chin, where she’d managed to hit him. At her reluctance, he continued, “Either you eat it, or I force feed you. Do you want to disappear?”

    Fear made her stomach churn. With her mouth open, the boy set the berry in her mouth. As Annabeth bit into it, she recoiled. It was bitter with just a hint of sweetness to attempt to compliment the tartness. Swallowing, she almost gagged.

    “What - Get off!” Annabeth wriggled and shoved at the boy’s chest when he pressed her against the building she had collapsed behind.

    “Shh. They're looking for you.” But he wasn't watching her. He was watching something behind them in the sky. It was definitely a bird of some sort, that much was visible. The odd thing was that in certain lighting of the moon, the head didn't look avian. It looked human which is what threw her off.

    Once the weird bird creature flew off, he leaned back and pushed to his feet. “Come on. We'll get to the bathhouse, figure out something there.” He held two hands down to her, which she warily accepted.

    After a few minutes of struggling, she said miserably, “I can't get up. My legs won't work.”

     Crouching down beside her he passed his hand over one of her legs and murmured something in a language that she didn't understand. And then in English: “Try again, Annabeth.”

    She did. This time it worked. She didn't have much more time to think it over as the boy was dragging her along, hand tight on hers. He was actually taking her to the palace, only a different route than she had taken earlier. It was a little garden-like area, bushes full and green, dotted with flowers in full bloom. The boy unlatched the outside of a small wooden gate and they came to the bridge, full of moving shapes.

    He turned to her momentarily. “When we get on the bridge, you can't breathe, all right?”

    “Why?” Annabeth frowned. What sense did that make?

    He looked a little annoyed, but explained with way more patience than he had. “Aside from fixing your legs, I've put a small spell on you. No one can smell you're human. But crossing that bridge is different; it goes into new territory.”

    “What do they see when they look at you now?”

    “Nothing. They might take it to mean I'm talking to myself. It isn't unusual.”

    Annabeth lifted a brow and put a hand on her hip, the one that wasn't being gripped. “You talk to yourself often? I think that's cause for worry if I'm going anywhere with you.”

    He gave her a look full of even more annoyance. “Uh, no. But others do tend to talk to themselves. If you have any chance of leaving here, it’s best to come with me.”

    “Right. And what about that little part of you putting a spell on me? Humans can't do magic.”

    He hesitated a moment, looked her dead in the eye and said, “No one said I was human. Are you coming or not?”

    Annabeth thought about it. He looked human, but then again, so had the blobs that came from the ship. If he was her only hope of getting out of here, hopefully with her family unpigified, should she give it a try? Annabeth had planned to go after him eventually. And if he was really capable of magic, that just might increase her odds.

    “You’re not going to turn into a blob of a monster, are you?” Annabeth lifted her chin at him.

    “No, I'm not.” He looked mildly surprised at her question.

    “Then I guess I'll come with you.” Annabeth sighed and started towards the bridge, lips pursed. It was hard to forget the hold he had on her hand; how warm it felt. How unforgettably familiar it was. It was hard to forget what he had smelled like: an ocean candle. Not fishy or stinky. But nice, like the candles her mother enjoyed lighting around the house frequently. Soon enough she was staring at the back of his head; it seemed that his hair had just been windblown earlier.

    “Hold your breath. Now.” He murmured to her over his shoulder. They were just coming up to the bridge after following the path from the wooden gate. Annabeth exhaled and then inhaled a deep breath, holding it. She even pinched her nose shut to be certain while clutching the boy’s arm now. All around her the blobs and misshapen animals/figures were moving towards the - what had he called it? - the bathhouse.

    A little whimper escaped her unbidden when she started to get a little lightheaded. Was this bridge this long before? Who made it longer on her?

    “Just a little longer, Annabeth.” He murmured again. Annabeth wondered, not for the first time, how he knew her name. It was an abstract thought, but now that she couldn't talk while only walking, it was brought to her attention. Had she accidentally introduced herself without realizing it? No, she didn't think so.

    Just when they were a few feet away from the bridge and the singing maidens, a frog hopped its way towards them. “Master Percy!” It shouted and hopped up in the boy’s face. He paused.

    It was so close Annabeth gasped in shock, immediately slapping her hand back over her mouth, eyes wide on the frog. It landed back to the ground and then it twisted itself. “Human!” It shrieked and then hopped back up in the air.

    The boy thrust out a hand, muttered one word, and the frog was suspended there and turning in the air with a shocked expression. The hold on her hand changed and suddenly she was lurched forward as the boy literally flew through the crowds low to the ground with Annabeth in tow. Exclamations from the maidens rang out as they blew passed them, their layers of skirts blowing up from the gusts. Coming to an abrupt halt was a little nauseating and startling. As she was blinking rapidly the boy shoved her through a door that was half her height, forcing her to crawl. When she peered back she saw the frog thump to the floor with a look of mild confusion on his face. Why was he wearing what looked like a small bellhop’s uniform? She was ushered behind a building and more bushes, these bare of flowers.

    “I’m sorry,” Annabeth blurted. “I didn't -”

    “It’s all right.” The boy paused as shouts rang throughout the building, exclaiming about a human being on the grounds. Someone once again called for ‘Master Percy.’

    “What’s your name?” Annabeth asked. “And how do you know mine?”

    He looked at her after glancing to the side door that had opened for a minute. “My name is Percy. And I knew you, years ago. You told me your name.”

    Annabeth held out her hand that had been freely released. “It’s nice to see you again, if that’s the case.”

    Percy shook her hand, giving it a light squeeze. “It was always nice to see you, Annabeth. You brightened my day.”

    Opening her mouth to try to form an adequate response, she floundered. What does one say to say to something like that, anyway. Instead what came out was: “Now what do I do?”

    Percy pursed his lips as he thought about it. “Now that they know you're here, we need a different plan. I think I've got one. It should be somewhat easy.”

    “Somewhat? That's not very reassuring.”

    “Nothing good comes easy.”

    “Well? What's this second plan of yours?”

    Percy gave her a reproachful look, amusement shimmered in his eyes. He lifted his right and settled two fingers against her forehead. There was a white light as images flooded inside her head and his voice followed: “You must get to the boiler room and find Chiron. You need a job to stay here unharmed. Ask him for one until he caves.”

    Annabeth blinked to clear the spots from her vision. “Okay. What then?”

    “After that, it’s up to him what happens. I can't tell you what'll happen after.” Percy said aloud this time. “Go. I will see you again.” He nodded before he turned to the door, going up a step before be entered. The doors slid open and he went inside.

    Annabeth exhaled sharply. If only she had kept her breath held this would've been different. After she gathered herself up she turned around to look at the door behind her. It was also half her height and forced her to either crawl or hunch over; she chose the former. Once outside and to the right of her was the staircase she saw in her head. Creeping to the edge gave Annabeth some of the spins because it was at a steep downwards angle. The steps were wide and far-spaced. Only when she was seated on the edge of the first step did Annabeth reach one foot down and then the other, lowering herself slowly. Even repeating this action four times was enough to make Annabeth wish it was faster going without getting dizzy. She wasn't usually afraid of heights, not by a long shot, but _this_ angle was unnerving.

     _Snap!_

    The fifth step broke as Annabeth put her full weight on it and she sped down, feet thumping noisily on each step and her stuttering squeals and whimpers were swallowed by that noise. “Ah!” Annabeth cried out as her momentum caused her to ram, shoulder first, into the wall at the base of the steps in a break. Tenderly moving her shoulder, she found it didn't feel broken - it was still movable with little to no problem aside from the radiating pain that shot down her arm and up her neck. Everything else was likewise still intact.

    Carrying on with the downward descent Annabeth made sure she went much quicker than she started out without another step breaking beneath her weight. Heat from the boiler room poured from the cracks in the closed door while the knob wasn't at all hot or even warm. Walking inside it, Annabeth broke out in a light sweat from being in close proximity and even while it built, her pace was slow and cautious.

    Metallic clangs beat rhythmically and echoed lightly all around, colours flaring in tones of red and orange. There, on a podium-type block, was a man with thinning brown hair and what might have been a five o’clock shadow, speckled white. One arm rotated a wheel with a handle, two more were grinding herbs in a long, thin oval, and another was pulling at tabs that dangled in front of his face. Dozens of little black . . . _things_ were scuttling towards a ledge with coal towards the flame. Annabeth almost opened her mouth to shriek - and maybe run in the other direction - when she realized that these things were misshapen and not quite spider-like. Annabeth stepped to the ledge and then stepped down, bending to get a closer look at passing ones.

    Yup, not spiders. Definitely not. They were circular with arms and legs as thick as toothpicks. Fuzz stuck up around their bodies, making them look like they've been shocked. Huge white eyes with black spots stared back at her. One of them made angry chittering and squeaking noises before struggling away with its luggage. It didn't look like they had an iris and a pupil.

    Straightening herself, Annabeth gathered her courage. “Excuse me! Will you let me work for you?”

    No answer for a minute before the guy turned to regard her briefly before turning back to grind up herbs. “I don't need another worker. I've got all the help I need.”

    “I’d like a job. Please, Chiron.” Annabeth tried again, beginning to make her way closer by stepping over the moving pieces of coal.

    The slave of the boilers turned around again, for a shorter period of time, before grunting. He didn’t say anything more. When Annabeth tried twice more, still nothing until one hand reached back towards her, arm extending far more than should be physically possible. It ushered her out of the way, forcing her to sit on the ledge she had made her way to, before opening a deep drawer to pull out herbs and then going straight up to two more drawers. Annabeth happened to glance down as one of the weird coal carriers squeaked adamantly, clearly struggling with the lump of coal. And then, out of nowhere, the coal fell atop the poor thing. Leaning over, Annabeth lifted the piece of coal from the small thing. It looked up at her, quivered, and then disappeared through one of the many holes they were emerging from or returning to.

    “Wait!” Annabeth hissed. “What do I do with this?”

    The rest just stared at her only to resume their actions. Annabeth sighed and started to make her way towards the ledge slowly, stepping around the coal carriers. Most of them moved out of her way until she paused and one chittered angrily when it bumped into her ankle and disrupted its flow of movement. She had to lift her leg to allow it to keep going and then following suit. Coming up to what had been making that metallic noise, the heat was almost unbearable now. Annabeth inched to the tip of the ledge, pausing to count the time between each time it opened and then shut again. Two heartbeats passed and Annabeth tossed in the coal before jumping/tiptoeing away to hide against the corner of the wall that separated the podium from the machinery at her back.

    “At least I didn't have to tell you to finish what you started,” Chiron grumbled. More of the coal carriers came over to her, pausing and looking to each other then lifting the coal higher to drop it, each one crushing body after body and they wiggled beneath each one. Annabeth pressed against the wall. “Oy! Back to work all of you! You want to be turned back into soot?” Each one wiggled more beneath the coal. Dark eyes rounded on her. “Young lady, don't take a job that isn't yours. If they don't work, they'll turn back to soot.”

    Before Annabeth could say she was sorry and hadn’t known, a new voice rang out in front of her, a panel of the wall opening. “Dinner!” It was a girl with brown/black hair and eyes that were equally dark. Olive skin. She went to the other side of Chiron, scolding him while handing over more food. “You should really leave your other dishes on the floor for me to reach easier, Chiron. I always flail trying to get them.” Then she went to the balls of soot, crouching and tossing them multicoloured things while they jumped around and wavered excitedly, picking up two or three pieces and bouncing away with them. They had abandoned their coal in a mound around Annabeth’s legs.

   Annabeth moved and stepped over the mound of coal, some of them trickling downwards. Another closer look had Annabeth being able to see that the things the soot sprites were carrying had been candy. Huh. Who knew? Turning back to Chiron, she said, “A job? Please?”

    The girl’s head lifted and she paled. “Human!” She turned to Chiron. “What are you doing? Why haven't you reported her yet? Everyone upstairs is making a fuss!”

    Chiron was crunching away on whatever it was he'd been given. “She’s my niece. I couldn't very well go up to meet her, could I? She came down to see me.”

    She was being eyed by the girl, who looked at least somewhere in her twenties. “And now what? She'll get caught eventually.”

    “Take her to Circe. Get a job for her.” Chiron waved them off dismissively.

    Sighing, the girl motioned for Annabeth to follow. She was wearing loose pants and a decent short-sleeved shirt. Both in pink. On her feet, she wore nothing. They were bare. “Take off your shoes and socks. Leave ‘em here.”

    Annabeth sat on the ledge and did as she was told. The soot sprites were bouncing around her shoes, swirling around and making noise at her. Looking first to Chiron and then to the girl, she said, “Thank you. Both of you.”

    “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just hurry up and come on. We've got things to do.” Annabeth hurried along to follow. Chiron just kept eating, one hand waving at her.

    “So, where do we have to go?” Annabeth asked. “And who are you?”

    “All the way up to the top, child. Call me Bianca.” She said. A small smile had slid towards Annabeth.

    “What do I say when I get there?”

    “You’ll figure it out. Just don't mention me. I would rather not be turned into an animal or something by the boss.”

    “You mean Circe.”

    Annabeth hadn't phrased it as a question, but Bianca answered anyway. “Yes, Circe. We're all employed by her.”

    “Terrific.” Annabeth grumbled. Bianca just smiled.

    She was led up a few flights of stairs until they came to a floor full of people - they became more human-like if Annabeth wasn't looking at them directly - heading to and from enclosures. Baths, judging by the steam that wafted gently from most of them. It was all brightly coloured, each floor in a different one. The one they were currently on was pink. Some above were: indigo, fuchsia, yellow, and grey. Maybe it was indicative of status or station. On the next floor up they passed by a white thing that was a cross between a weird tentacle monster (it’s mustache looked like that with only two) and a yeti. And was it wearing a bowl on its head?

    It was a little hard not to look at it, really, it was so weird. At least she wasn't scolded for staring because that sort of thing was rude. Some frog thing started to sniff around Bianca, saying she smelled like a human and Bianca stating how absurd that was.

   Meanwhile, she was crushed between the corner of the elevator and the yeti, who appeared tired. “Pull the lever to go up, sir! I can't escort you.”

    She had to struggle around the yeti, eyes darting around. No one had noticed her hiding place just yet and only when she managed to pull the lever did a sigh of relief pass through her lips. Up at the next floor it was short as the yeti looked at her and pulled the lever itself to dismount on the next level. It looked at her, made some odd sighing noise, and then lumbering away. Pulling the lever again, Annabeth waited for it to come to a stop. It was much smoother than most elevators she had been in with the slightest of lurches most of the time. This one didn't have one lurch in it.

    Stepping off the elevator was a bit of a surprise considering it looked much more homier than the lower levels what with its darker colours and beautiful decorations. Here it appeared to be in a more European décor; which was her best guess since she’d only seen such a style in films. It was artful and elegant, though. Very tasteful. Annabeth veered to one side, the right, and followed that hallway down to a closed set of large double doors, refusing to feel panicky or unsure in her actions. Percy had set her on this path and for reasons unknown there was a certain amount of trust held to him. It might've had something to do with when they'd met - that time was still cloudy and unattainable each time she reached for it, but Annabeth knew it was there hovering beneath her conscious mind. Waiting until the right moment to shine through.

    She had been mistaken. The doors weren’t fully closed; one of them was slightly ajar and almost inviting. There was a sense of dread the closer she came to the doors. Reaching up with one hand Annabeth had gone to shove open the door when the gold knocker in the shape of a woman’s head spoke angrily, “Weren’t you taught to knock before entering a room?”

    Annabeth jumped, hand going to her chest to quiet her rapidly beating heart. “Of course I was! But the door is open. Isn't that a universal sign that anyone is welcome?” Annabeth admitted she felt pretty silly talking to a knocker, even if it did talk back to her.

    “Even if it’s open, the polite thing to do is _ask_.” The knocker harrumphed.

    Annabeth snorted at it. Her retort was cut off by a new voice, this one rich with power and authority. “What are you waiting for, child? Enter.” Something tugged at Annabeth as the doors swung open silently. Then something invisible wrapped around her waist and she was pulled forward, the tips of her socked feet zipping along on the carpeted floor. Being tugged around corners sharply was not what could be classified as fun. Unless you happened to like being manipulated by something Annabeth could only describe as magic. Another door and Annabeth was tossed inside, causing her to stumble in front of a lit fireplace until her balance was corrected.

     Off to the right of her was a desk littered with papers and what looked like pure gold and other precious items like gemstones and heirlooms. A set of crossed torches were raised, emblazoned, on the front of the desk. Heavy drapes behind her and towards a corridor that Annabeth didn't know where it headed.

    What drew her full attention wasn't the giant green floating heads with mustaches that were thumping around her and harrumphing at her; it was the woman that sat behind the desk with her head lifted from paperwork to regard Annabeth curiously, if with a little annoyance. The woman, Circe, Annabeth presumed, wore a long, flowing emerald green dress - velvet it looked - with her blonde hair down and curled loosely. Her eyes were piercing in a shade of emerald that matched her dress. They were as striking as Percy’s, though not for the same reason. Whereas Percy’s was because of their colour, Circe’s were because of power that glimmered just on the surface. Enough for Annabeth to know she wasn't to be taken lightly or even underestimated. Her skin was flawless, and so was what little makeup she did wear. Her fingers and wrists were adorned in gold and silver, some studded with jewels. A necklace, also crossed torches, held sparkling jewels that seemed like moving flames all their own.

    No, wait, they were actually moving.

    Staring into Circe’s eyes was a little unnerving due to the greed and hints of malice. Circe was timeless, beautiful, and ancient. Thin threads of silver, upon closer inspection Annabeth noticed, were mixed in with her hair.

    Steeling her nerves, Annabeth stepped a few paces closer and gave a slight curtsy of respect before straightening shortly after. “I’d like to work for you, ma’am. Please.”

     Circe’s laugh was like water sprinkling over a river: musical and lovely to be graced with. “And why should I give you one? You're lucky you haven't been turned into an animal of some kind like your family, although it’s their fault for eating food that wasn't theirs.” Circe paused, considering. “Who helped you up here, child? Surely you didn't get up here by yourself.”

    Annabeth wasn't about to comment on the state of her family, or ratting out Percy, so she stayed on topic. “I want to work for you.”

    Circe’s eyes sparked with irritation and she stood. “I don't need your help! I have all the help and servants I would possibly need. Bad enough you would need to be trained.”

    “I’m a fast learner,” Annabeth tried.

    A noise that sounded frighteningly like a snarl left Circe as she went to go move around the desk to go to her when a resounding thud caused everything in sight to rattle, things falling off the desk, drapes breaking from the wall. A giant foot kicked through boards that had previously been covered by more drapes to the right. Annabeth jumped two steps back as the crying began and as did more of the thuds and thumps.

    Circe cried out and scurried to the large foot as if her life depended on it. “Boh!”

    Annabeth frowned as Circe started talking to what was, apparently, a giant baby. She couldn't hear what was being said since Circe was whispering. Annabeth cleared her throat. “Will you give me a job?”

    Circe gave her a dirty look over her shoulder, her hair now messed up with pieces of wood inside it, sticking up at odd angles. “Silence!” Circe hissed.

    “I want a job.” Annabeth lifted her chin defiantly.

    Boh wailed and cried louder. Annabeth resisted the urge to cringe. Circe was trying to soothe a distressed baby, which wasn't working. “Please, Boh. Be a good baby.”

     “Job?” Annabeth prompted, ignoring the child.

    “Yes!” Circe hissed, now nearing panic. “Fine, fine! I'll give you a job if you'll just be quiet!”

    Annabeth shut up, but she knew her eyes were glimmering in satisfaction. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited patiently. Circe eventually got Boh to quiet down, much easier now that Annabeth wasn't talking.

    Fixing the drapes and blowing a strand of hair from her face, Circe waved her hand a few times and things started to rearrange themselves slowly. A piece of paper and a pen floated over to Annabeth, who plucked both from the air. “Sign your name along the dotted line. A contract is in order when you work for me.”

    “Of course, Circe.” Annabeth murmured. She looked around her for a flat surface beside the floor and crouched, setting the piece of paper atop one of the green heads, which made indignant noises at her as she scrawled her first name along the line as she was told.

    Barely finishing the lower curve of the ‘h’ in her name, the paper and pen flew from her to Circe. Annabeth gave the giant green head a pat, though it grumbled at her and then rolled away from her. The other two heads were snickering gruffly.

    “Annabeth,” Circe murmured, more to herself than to Annabeth. “What a lovely name.”

    What happened next was way weird. Circe lifted her left hand and swirled her hand in the air above her name, catching floating letters. What name had Circe said again? She knew it was her name, but she couldn't remember it. There was a sense of not quite right going on in her head, knowing something was amiss. When Circe pointed a finger at her, her hair was combed and the curls smoothed; a smattering of blush on her cheeks; just the barest tones of gold and pink on her eyelids. She could feel it.

    “There we go, Anna. Now you look a bit more presentable, especially if you're working here.” Circe turned to the door and called out. “Percy! Get in here.”

    The door opened a few seconds later and in came the boy. Percy didn't even spare a glance her way, immediately placing a bow when his eyes found the sorceress.

    “Well? What are you waiting for? Introduce yourself.” Circe snapped at her.

    “I’m Anna.” She replied. It felt weird. Too weird. It wasn't right. Still, Anna knew she needed to just keep going.

    “Hello, Anna. Follow me.” Percy said, leaving the room after bowing again to Circe. His voice had been off - distant and sort of mechanical. Anna hurried after him after bowing her head to Circe and thanking her.

    “Percy -”

    His voice was low, urgent as they were only steps outside the doors. “You’ll address me as Master Percy, as does everyone else.”

     “ _Master_ Percy,” Anna put special emphasis on the first part, implying she might just want to deck him again instead if his tone didn’t change. “Where are we going?”

    He glanced over his shoulder at her and there was that familiar spark she had seen earlier. “To get situated, of course,”

    “With?”

    “The others. By the way, the sooner you learn to do your own makeup, the easier it is. It'll fix itself if it doesn’t look up to par with Circe’s standards. The others will help you.”

    Anna stayed silent, but she nodded. They didn’t talk much as they took those elevators down to the pink floor Anna remembered from earlier and to help the silence, she found herself humming a gentle tune that her mother used to sing to her. Percy kept looking to her in morbid curiosity, not even bothering to hide it as a lopsided smile would tug at the corners of his lips. She noticed that he moved himself closer to her, staying as close as he dared to get.

    Walking down to a station somewhere in the heart of the floor, Anna spotted Bianca clustered around a podium with another frog manning it. Frogging it? How unusual. Except by this point, her unusual factor had hit its limit.

    “Bianca,” Percy called. Everyone stilled and immediately turned to him. They bowed their heads respectfully. Anna suspected that their respect wasn't true judging by their wooden movements. It seemed an automatic thing. Percy couldn't be such a bad guy, could he?

    “Yes, Master Percy?” She answered. Her eyes lit on Anna, smiling at her in relief.

    “This is Anna. She is yours to train. The perfect opportunity since we've been understaffed and you're the only one who hasn't gotten an apprentice.”

    “I’d rather it be called companionship. A helper.” Bianca said smoothly. Eyes bulged her way in disbelief. Or was that a warning in their eyes?

    Percy grunted. “Whatever the case, she's yours.” Then he turned and abruptly began to leave.

    “Come. We'll get you changed and situated,” Bianca motioned to a set of stairs that she would soon learn led to a quarter of their own for them to sleep. When they came to it, Bianca whirled around, grinning down to her. “Aha! You did it! You made it. Circe isn't easy to coerce into giving jobs; how'd you do it?”

    Anna couldn't stop her smile from forming. Bianca’s happiness was infectious. “She has a baby. It was loud and I didn't shut up until she agreed to giving me one.”

    Bianca laughed. “That’ll do it. Touchy, that one, when it involves her kid.”

    Anna made a noise of agreement as she was led into an area that was full of mattresses piled high with pillows and linens. But Bianca didn't stop in the middle, she continued to the wall that lined the back and pulled open a section - it was full of different uniforms much like the one she wore. She kept plucking out a few, holding them out to observe them without it being on Anna. Bianca muttered to herself, complaining about how thin she was and how anything she had would be a little too baggy on her slight frame.

    “What’s with this Master Percy? What's his story?” Anna asked her.

    Bianca froze. She hesitated, picking and choosing her words carefully. “He’s Circe’s apprentice. It'd be better if you stay a little clear of him. I don't think he's a bad person, he's helped us without Circe knowing, but, sometimes I wonder. Question his motives. He's been here longer than I have.”

    “How long have you been here?” Anna asked. She didn't comment on what Percy was or wasn't like or capable of. And she also just couldn't say that, for some reason, she trusted him with her life. Mostly, at least.

    Bianca motioned her to the left side of the room where an unmade bed was. “I can't remember, exactly. Been a while, though. He's always been a little weird. One moment he’s nice and helping us out and the next he's cold and professional, wants nothing to do with us.” Bianca handed over clothing. “Here’s your work uniform and sleepwear. The makeup will probably last a few days on its own, so don't worry about that. Your hair can either be up in a ponytail or a braid. If you don't like those options, just leave it down.”

    Anna took the things she was given, eyeing the sleepwear curiously. Unfolding it from the separate pile, she found it was a nightgown with a pair of crossed torches on the neckline to the left. She hadn't noticed it before, but there was also that same symbol on Bianca’s collar. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she questioned, “What’s with the crossed torches?”

    “Some people say that it’s the symbol of their mother, Hecate. Circe doesn't speak of it and what little Percy may or may not know, he doesn’t talk about it ever. A few people here have questioned him and he shut them out. Actually, he didn't come near us for a week and a half. I think Circe found out he was questioned, probably punished him.”

    “Why punish him, I wonder?” Anna asked more to herself than Bianca, who shrugged anyway.

    “Not sure. But you need to change. Everyone will be back here soon enough to sleep for the day.”

    Anna started to undress after standing. “Day and night are flipped here?” There was no problem with that - the day had certainly been eventful.

    “They are. Clientele prefers nights.” Bianca changed as well, stretching out on the bed beside the one Anna had been on.

    The nightgown fell to just beneath her knees. With her discarded clothes in her hands, Anna held them out uncertainly. Bianca groaned and got up, taking her clothes. “Stay here. I'll take these.”

    Anna nodded, otherwise not responding. She sat down on the bed wearily after making it, eyelids heavy. She didn't know how she was going to get out of this. All possible ways she could think of ended with her being the same as her family or staying as a worker for all eternity. Circe handled all the contracts and therefore all the people. Her clientele, too, even. Female workers began to pile into the room, chattering excitedly, especially as they spotted Anna.

    “It’s her!” one exclaimed.

    “The human!” another said.

    “How did you get Circe to get you to join?” came another voice.

    “We all know Circe is supposed to give work to anyone who asks, but that doesn’t mean she really does.” said a fourth.

    “Oh, leave her be. Just know she signed a contract and now she's here. Period. The end. Go on about your business!” Bianca scolded them, using her hands to shoo them away like they were annoying insects.

    Anna let out a sigh of relief and gave Bianca a grateful look. She hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise. All the other women, all older than her appearance-wise, moved away and began to chat amongst themselves.

    Slowly, the lights began to dim as the sun lightened the sky, making the colours brighter, vibrant, in shades of pink, orange, and cerulean. Anna only caught glimpses of it before her eyes fluttered to a close and she not only fell asleep, she passed out.

    There was nothing that played out in her mind; no memories or wishes. Not even darkness, just a restful sense of peace aside from her shivering because she was cold.

    Until, that is, someone put a hand on her shoulder and Anna was roused from her peaceful sleeping. Was it Bianca? Did they already have to get up? Anna didn't want to. The presence was familiar, comforting.

    “Meet me out by the bridge. I have something to show you.” A whisper met her ears, lip grazing the one not squished against a pillow.

    Percy’s back was what she saw when she opened her eyes. It felt like something was pulling at her chest, demanding she obey, to do something. Make sure she went to go see whatever he had to show her.

    Anna got up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Fixing her sheets, she turned and started out in the direction needed to take so she could exit the bathhouse to find one mysterious boy. Bianca said he wasn't bad, and in the same breath had told her she should be careful around him.

    Anna wasn't scared, though, couldn't be and couldn't find it in herself to be. A flash flickered across her lids when she blinked; the colour black in an unrecognizable shape and those eyes of his. Before today, she had seen them before, and she was determined to find out where and what had happened to him if he wasn't human.

    And that meant she needed to go see what he had to show her.

**Author's Note:**

> A round of a applause to my beta, tacticalghoul for reading this over.  
> Second chapter is already being written, so there's that!  
> There should only be about four chapters, provided the characters don't go ahead and mess up my plans, hijacking my work.   
> Give me some feedback, dear readers.  
> And come find me on Tumblr under the same name.


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